


Happy Pride! (No, There Aren't Any Lions, Buck)

by ElloPoppet



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Character, Bucky Barnes-centric, Clint is so Extra, Cute, Fluff, For Science!, How Do I Tag, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Pansexual Character, Pining, Pride, Why does Tony have gay porn?, mentions of period typical homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 01:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14884868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElloPoppet/pseuds/ElloPoppet
Summary: In which Bucky learns about Pride month, has a pansexual epiphany, and knows better than to ask Bruce out for coffee.





	Happy Pride! (No, There Aren't Any Lions, Buck)

**Author's Note:**

> It's two in the morning. I didn't plan this. I don't know where it came from. I don't know if it's any good. Mistakes belong to me and me alone.
> 
> All I know is that I couldn't sleep until I wrote it, and I also know that I'm dying to see more works for this pairing. I'm becoming a rare pair addict, and damn if it isn't an inconvenient way to live.
> 
> But anyway. 'Tis the season.
> 
> Happy Pride!

“Happy Pride, comrades!” 

Bucky looked up from his bowl of cereal to steal a glance at the television, where he was certain he would find Animal Planet airing a documentary on groups of lions because otherwise, the words that had escaped all too joyously from Clint’s mouth made no damn sense.

It was CNN, and the reporters were talking about stocks and bonds. Steve was entranced, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration for reasons that Bucky didn’t even care to try comprehending.

“...happy what, now?” Bucky asked, abandoning his pitiful breakfast in lieu of approaching Clint in the kitchen. Typically clad in sweats and a t-shirt on off days, Clint was bopping around the kitchen making coffee dressed in ass-hugging skinny jeans and a...rainbow vest?

“Oh, morning Buck. It’s June 1st, day numero uno of my favorite month of the year.” Clint popped a grape in his mouth and smiled as he caught his finished toast in midair, fresh from the toaster. 

“And what is it that you’re celebrating, exactly?” Bucky continued, trying to follow.

“Barton is celebrating being the loudest, brightest, and all around gayest Avenger of the bunch,” Tony pitched in from the table, where he, Bruce and Natasha were eating their own breakfasts.

Bucky felt his eyebrows rise as he turned back towards Clint. 

“Gayest? As in overwhelmed with joy, or…?”

“Or. Definitely the ‘or’ option. I’m here, I’m queer, and I’m really, really proud of it.” With that, Clint winked, snatched up his cup of coffee, and whistled his way out of the communal area.

Bucky felt like he had been doused with ice water.

His internal panic must have been evident on his face because a moment later he registered Natasha snapping her fingers in front of him.

“James,” she said, voice flat and no-nonsense, “are you with us?”

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I just...got...lost, for a minute there.”

Natasha simply held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding curtly and returning back to the table. 

“Hey Cap, did you happen to forget to update your best friendcicle over here on the fact that hating gays isn’t so swell anymore?” Bucky visibly shrank at Tony’s words.

“I...I don’t…” Bucky managed, before clamping his mouth shut. Steve walked into the kitchen, leaned against the counter. 

“I guess I probably should have prepared him before today,” Steve stated in response to Tony. Ever the martyr with the neverending self-blame and guilt complex. 

Steve, Tony and Natasha started conversing together then, all talking to Jarvis and giving suggestions as to what would be good “reading material” or “exposure” for Bucky to better “understand the social climate.” Bucky continued to stand in the kitchen, gaping at the rest of them.

Against his better judgment, Bucky glanced up at Bruce, who had remained quiet all morning and even then wasn’t participating in what had developed into a pertinent team discussion. Rather, Bruce was looking at Bucky, head tilted slightly to the side. When their eyes met, Bucky’s stomach dipped, and he quickly made strides across the kitchen to the door. 

“I’m going to,” Bucky said, throat dry. He didn’t try to finish the thought, opting instead to retreat. He could feel Bruce’s eyes on his back until he turned the corner in the hallway.

*

After spending hours sifting through the information compiled by Jarvis at the request of the team, Bucky was exhausted. His eyes burned from staring too long at the computer, and he also felt a little creepy having clicked through the videos suggested by Tony. He had been a Howling Commando, a sergeant during World War II, and he had never seen as many dicks in his life, for fuck’s sake Tony. 

He wasn’t ignorant. He knew that gay folks had always existed, hell, he acknowledged that he fell somewhere along the non-heterosexual area of the spectrum he had been reading about all day. Bucky just could not comprehend that it was all okay, now, by most people’s standards. That two men might be able to hold hands in the street or go dancing the way he used to go dancing with dames, and might not get throttled or killed for it in most places around the country. 

Hell, the entire month of June was dedicated to the plights and bloody history of their fight. Bucky did take the time to read about that, feeling like it was important to know what happened at the Stonewall riots. He had thought himself relatively brave until he was finished reading about Marsha P. Johnson; that woman was braver than he had ever been.

*

Over the next few days, Bucky approached the members of his team to ask them questions as he came across them in his reading. He tried to research on his own, but he didn’t particularly trust Google or the internet in general, which seemed to basically just be a shitload of opinions with nothing backing them up.

“Stevie, what’s it mean to be pansexual?”

“I dunno, Buck. I’m not sure about that one. I know there’s gay, lesbian, and asexual, which are easy enough, and bisexual, which means the person is attracted to more than one gender. Did you get to learning about gender identity, yet?”

“Yeah. Seemed pretty straightforward. I’m not entirely sure why everyone seems to be a real uptight dick when it comes to there being more than just two genders, though, or people being born one way and not the other.”

Steve laughed, but his eyes looked tired. “I don’t know, Bucky. The world has changed and has come a long way, but there will always be folks who can’t just let people have their freedom, I suppose, not even the freedom to use a bathroom or call themselves what they want.”

With that, the conversation died, and Bucky got to wondering if all of the wars and bloodshed in the world had been worth it after all if this was the way people still treated one another. 

*

“What’s it mean to be pansexual?”

Clint grinned at him from the other end of the couch and used the remote to pause Dog Cops. 

“I thought you’d never ask! I figured you were the reason Steve asked me the same thing earlier today. So, it’s really simple, Buckaroo. Pan people usually consider themselves to fall somewhere along one of these camps. First, I either hear them say that they’re attracted to all gender identities, or second, I hear them say that they’re attracted to people regardless of what their gender might be. Hearts, not parts.”

Bucky was confused. Not at Clint’s explanation, but at the feeling in his body like a weight had been lifted somewhere, and at the small smile that he couldn’t keep off of his face. When he looked up again, Clint was grinning at him. 

Bucky cleared his throat. “I dunno if this is okay to ask, but is that what you are?”

Clint shook his head. “Nope,” he said, popping the p loudly. “I’ve always been more comfortable with identifying as bisexual.”

Bucky considered, nodding as he did so. With that information, he stood from the couch with the intent of seeking out Natasha. Bucky stopped just before walking through the door and turned back to Clint.

“Hey, Barton?”

“What’s up, buttercup?”

“Happy Pride.”

Clint’s responding grin was nearly blinding, and Bucky felt happy.

*

“Natasha, do you know Bruce’s sexual orientation?” 

To her credit, Natasha didn’t even blink. “I don’t, and even if I did it wouldn’t be my business to answer your question,” she answered smoothly, leaning across the counter from Bucky. He cringed.

“Right! It’s not cool to out anybody. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Natasha shrugged lightly. “I didn’t say that. I’m just not the person you should be asking.”

Bucky considered her statement, silence falling around them for a few moments. Surprisingly, Natasha was the one to break it.

“Are we having feelings about a particular scientist in the tower who occasionally moonlights as a gigantic green monster with anger management issues?” she asked, blunt as ever with the snark to match. 

Bucky groaned and buried his face in his hands, one colder than the other on his cheeks.

“He’s so smart, and nobody ever appreciates his jokes, and I swear he’s the most handsome fella I’ve laid eyes on in decades, I just want to touch his hair and I malfunction whenever he wears that purple button up shirt.”

“It’s a good shirt,” Natasha said, causing Bucky to groan in exasperation once more.

“Do you think he’d get, I don’t know, angry if I asked him out for tea?” Bucky mumbled. He jerked his head up at the sound of Natasha giggling. Natasha was not known to giggle.

“Okay, your pining is pathetic but the fact that you know not to ask him for coffee is damn adorable, James.” She smiled at him, and he felt his mouth quirk up in kind. “And for the record, I don’t think he’s the type to get angry over something as sweet as that. Modest, maybe a little uncomfortable taking the compliment, but not angry.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, chastising himself internally. “Hey,” he said suddenly, “he’s pretty close with Stark. Do you think I should maybe get advice from him?”

For the first time since the start of the conversation, Natasha’s eyes widened fractionally. “Do not do that,” she said firmly. 

Bucky knew that she was right. He didn’t know what he had been thinking.

*

“Is it alright if I just...hang out here, for a little while?” Bucky asked Bruce after Bruce had granted him access to the lab. The lights in the lab were low and there was calming violin music playing in the background, which was a major relief for Bucky because that was a sure sign that Tony was nowhere to be found.

Bruce nodded his head lightly and motioned towards the side of the table opposite where he had been hunched over a stack of papers. Bucky slid onto one of the lab chairs and watched Bruce do the same, and the two of them settled into silence. Bucky watched Bruce work for a while, watched the way he ran his tongue over his bottom lip when he was really focused, his hands dancing over pages as he marked them up with a red pen. 

Bucky wanted to touch, wanted to pull on the perfect curl that had settled over Bruce’s left eyebrow, wanted to fold the smaller man into his arms and whisper soothing mantras into his ear. Bucky didn’t know where the craving for intimacy with Bruce had come from, just that it had been building over his months in the tower and that he knew deep down that he hadn’t felt this way about anybody, certainly not after HYDRA but not even before.

In spite of all of the things he wanted to do, Bucky opened his mouth to speak instead.

“I like that you haven’t asked me why I’m here.”

Bruce looked up from behind his glasses and sat up straighter. “I enjoy your company,” Bruce said, as though those four words didn’t make Bucky’s heart race in his chest. “And besides, I figured that if I waited it out I would get to hear the story behind that.” Bruce used his hand to reach forward, using his red correction pen to ping the small rainbow pin that was attached to Bucky’s shirt collar. “Clint, I’m guessing?”

Bucky smiled shyly, but nodded. “Yeah, but only after I asked him for one.”

Bruce sat even straighter, and Bucky’s supersoldier hearing picked up the sound of him swallowing. 

“Oh? Has your research into Pride celebrations proven to be enlightening for you?” Bruce inquired, his eyes flitting to and from Bucky’s quickly. Bucky’s heart beat a little faster still.

“You could say that. I learned that a lot of people have been fighting for an awful long time to try to get equal treatment, to try to get rights in place that shoulda always been there.” Bucky took a deep breath, met Bruce’s eyes dead on, and continued. “A lot of people have been fighting to make it so I shouldn’t hafta be afraid to see if you might let me buy you a cup of tea, sometime.”

Bruce grinned. Bucky felt like he was flying. 

That feeling gave him the confidence to reach over and put his flesh hand over Bruce’s on the table. “So, whaddya say, doll? Can I take you out sometime, preferably soon?”

Bruce turned his hand palm up, lacing their fingers together. His cheeks were blazing red, and he stuttered a little bit when he went to respond. Bucky thought he was beautiful.

“I, yes. I would really, really like that.”

Bucky’s face hurt with the smile that he couldn’t fight, broad enough to where he knew he must look kind of goofy. He stood from his chair and took a step closer to Bruce, who followed his actions with half-lidded eyes. Bucky brought their joined hands to his lips to peck Bruce’s hand before turning to leave. “We’ll talk over breakfast tomorrow?” Bucky asked. 

“Sure,” came Bruce’s response, and Bucky had to make an effort not to pump his fist in the air. He was learning bad habits from Tony and Clint. Bruce’s voice stopped him before he could exit the lab.

“Hey, Bucky?” Bruce asked, sounding breathless. Bucky turned to look at him, leaned his back against the door.

“Yeah?”

“Happy Pride.”

Bucky laughed, loud and bright.


End file.
